Journals Lead to Slumber
by BBCGirl72
Summary: Cas, newly human, is having trouble getting to sleep. He is haunted with memories. How will Dean react when his friend confides in him for help? Another oneshot I whipped up. Destiel. Set in the beginning of season 9. Spoilers up to season 8 finale. Rated T for language. (Disclaimer included inside.)


_**A/N: Howdy! This is another fic I've been working really hard on. It's just a oneshot about what I would've liked to happen in the beginning of season 9. I've spent a good month on it, working out transitions and such, and I'm pretty proud of it. Enjoy! :) Reviews are love. **_

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Dean and Castiel would still stare at one another, but they would at least have kissed by now. All rights go to Eric Kripke.**

Dean's Journal. 12:36 AM.

_Stupid fucking book._

_Sammy told me that it would be a good idea to start a journal to record our adventures, just like Dad, though I'm not much of a writer. Well, Sammy's actual words included something about feelings and shit before I threatened to punch him in the gut._

_Well, since I've got this dumb thing open, I guess I may as well appease Sam before he pulls out his bitchiness._

_It's been a week since the angels have fallen._

_When Cas fell, he was lucky to have landed just a few miles away from the bunker, so we were able to find him pretty easily. I won't say the same for his reaction to the angels' fall from grace, though. It's been absolutely terrible._

_Cas hasn't been getting sleep and has had no progress in learning human customs. No, Castiel has been roaming around the bunker, murmuring the names of fallen angels under his breath when he thinks I'm not listening._

_Though Sam and I have taught Cas multiple times how to clean dishes, use the bathroom, and brush teeth, the poor guy remains oblivious to how to complete even the simplest human task. The dark bags under his eyes are beginning to worry me. Cas will need sleep soon, or else I am afraid that his newly human body will shut down, and... Well, I can't lose anyone else._

_Damn, this is what Sammy was talking about. Writing out your feelings. Dammit Sammy, you know I hate talking, or writing for that matter, about my feelings!_

_Anyway, I am still hoping that Cas will eventually fall asleep. It is not looking hopeful, though. I managed to get him to lie down on his bed about fifteen minutes ago, but I've managed to get him under the bed sheets with his incredible eyes closed a few times before and still I've found Cas up and unsuccessfully attempting to make breakfast the next morning. The bags under his eyes merely more prominent than the night before._

_Shit, did I just say something about Cas's "incredible eyes"? When did I become such a girl? Even if it may or may not be true that I've sort of developed a little school girl crush on Cas... No, Dean, shut off your thinking cap and shut up!_

_Ignore that, please._

_Anyway, I_

"Dean?" Cas whispers softly, nearly inaudibly.

I nearly jump out of my skin, slamming my black spiral notebook shut when I hear the angel's voice behind me.

"It's okay," he says quietly when I get to my feet; efficiently stuffing the fucking idiotic notebook in the closet my room holds. "I didn't see anything."

Embarrassed about my initial, instinctive reaction, my face flushes a beet red before I turn to look at Cas.

Once I am turned around, I can barely halt even more warm blood rushing to my cheeks. Castiel is standing in his usual awkward stance. His dark hair is mussed up; a few fluffy tufts protruding like he'd tried to go to sleep and had ended up tossing and turning. Those blue eyes shine with innocence. And, just, to complete the adorable look, my old AC/DC t-shirt hangs off his small frame, sort of matching the pair of red-and-green plaid pyjama bottoms he wears.

I quickly attempt to blink away the redness colouring my cheeks and instead sit back down. Leaning back in my chair, I ask, "So, Cas, what's up?"

"Well, the ceiling is in the upward direction." Castiel replies, his head tilting in the most ador— I mean, Cas's head falling into his signature confused head tilt.

I chuckle. "No, Cas, I mean—" I sigh, raking a hand through my short hair. "Why did you come in here?" Castiel's thin, nimble fingers begin to absentmindedly play with the hem of the overlarge black t-shirt. His astonishingly blue eyes flit down until they study the hard concrete floor.

"Erm..." Cas scratches the back of his neck, as though he is embarrassed. It reminds me of the time he did so when he told me he'd never had sex before and I took him to that brothel.

"Really, Cas. It's okay. What is it?" I say, curiosity riddling my speech.

Castiel then looks up and stares me in the eyes, which shocks me. He hasn't done as much since a week ago. Since the angels fell. And in those azure eyes, I see pain. Pain and fear.

"I am scared, Dean." Cas utters simply, voice small, seeming to shrink. "I am scared of the dark. Things that lurk in the dark. Scared of sleep because I know what terrible nightmares it will bring on." The angel hesitates. "Can I sleep in here tonight?" he asks.

Am I just imaging things, or did I just see his cheeks go red? Something twists sharply inside of me, but in a good way that just makes me want to beam with happiness.

"Sure, Cas." I gesture vaguely towards my bed, making no attempt of moving from my chair. Looks like it'll be a night on the floor for me.

Cas's cheeks are definitely turning a shade of crimson when he whispers, "Will you lay with me?"

Something amazing happens at that moment. For the first time ever, I feel no worry of being rejected by Castiel or nervousness at being near him. And it feels great.

I quietly toe off my boots and walk over to my comfy bed, beckoning the angel over. Cas, already barefoot, silently pushes himself up onto the bed and burrows under the covers, curling himself into a ball. I click off the lamp and slide under the soft, cozy covers as well.

Cas's back is pressed up against my side, a warm little bundle clinging to me. It feels warm. Warm and utterly right.

After a few seconds, I tentatively reach over and place an arm around Cas's shoulders. My angel immediately turns around and buries his face into my shirt. When a soft hum begins in my throat, I feel Cas smile and his muscles begin to relax under my fingertips.

For a while, we lay there, me humming 'Hey Jude' and gently rubbing small circles on Cas's back with my thumb, Castiel lying there with an enormous smile plastered on his face, though tremors still run through his body.

Eventually, he exhales very slowly and relaxes completely, the shaking diminishing. I grin when I hear the angel's breathing beginning to steady out.

Cas hasn't had sleep since that horrible day.

Since the angels fell.

And it feels like I am merely completing a perfect picture when I curl my arm further around Cas, pulling his head to my chest and stroking his fluffy dark hair softly.

"It's alright," I whisper as my angel begins to shudder a bit in his sleep. I pull him closer. "Cas, it'll all be better soon."

And when I wake up in the morning with a still-slumbering Cas at my side, no longer shaking, the world, screwed up as it is, feels perfect.

After all, maybe some good did come from the angels falling.


End file.
